A Spark
by fer1213
Summary: While patrolling, Giles gets knocked out and Buffy and Spike feel something--a spark. Reposted and revised.


Reposting of an earlier story.  This tries to stay within canon and is a stand-alone.

Disclaimer: These characters belong entirely to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.  I'm just messing with them.

**A Spark**

"For God's sake, Buffy!  Let's move on with our lives, shall we?"  Giles stood on the other side of the headstone, hands on his hips.

Buffy kicked the newly risen vampire in the stomach.  The impact sent him over the stone and right into Giles.

Buffy put a hand over her mouth.  "Oh!  Sorry!  My bad."  She jumped after the vamp and pulled him off her Watcher.  "You okay, Giles?"

When Giles groaned in response, Buffy whirled around, stake in hand.  Just as she was about to plunge it into the fledgling's heart, he exploded into ashes.  Buffy coughed and waved vampire dust away from her face to see Spike grinning at her.

"There you go, Slayer," Spike said.  He tucked a stake into a pocket of his duster and rubbed his hands on his jeans.  "Good night's work, yeah?"

"Spike," Buffy said, finally finding her voice.  "What the hell did you do that for?"

Spike looked confused.  "Killing the nasties?  Righting the wrongs?  Having FUN?"

Buffy threw her hands in the air and turned back to a still softly moaning Giles.  "Giles, are you hurt?" she asked, kneeling at his side.

"'Course he is.  Gee, keen deductive reasoning not part of the whole Slayer package?" Spike asked with a smirk.  "Or is it just a Buffy shortcoming?"

"Shut up, Spike.  Help me pick him up.  Gently!"

Giles's head lolled back as Buffy and Spike lifted him to his feet.  "Don't think he can stand on his own, Buffy," Spike told her.  He caught Giles against his side as the other man's knees buckled.  

"Oh, and *that* was sharp and observy," Buffy said as she ducked under Giles's arm, steadying him.  "Let's get him home."

"Not like I didn't have plenty of things to do tonight other than dragging some washed up Watcher home after he was conked on the noggin by a measly fledge."

"Again with the 'Shut up, Spike'."

"I think…" Giles mumbled.  "I think my ribs might be broken."

"Oh, Giles!  We'll get you home and patched up.  Promise," Buffy said.  "Hurry!" she hissed at Spike.

"First it's 'gentle'.  Then it's 'hurry'.  You're testing me, Slayer."

"Know what, Spike?" Buffy started before Giles moaned again, bringing her focus back to him.  She made a distressed sound.  "Just a little further," she said.

Buffy and Spike were silent until they reached the front door of Giles's apartment.  

"Grab his keys out of his front pocket," Buffy directed.

"I'm *not* sticking my hands in any bloke's pants!"

"It's just his pocket!  Oh for God's…"  Buffy slipped out from under Giles's arm and dug into his pants pocket herself.  She pulled a set of keys out triumphantly.  "See?  Not so hard."

"Wasn't willing to find that out myself," Spike said with a sly smile.

"Wha--  OH!  Ewwww!!" Buffy said, making Spike laugh out loud.

Buffy glared at him before unlocking the apartment door.  She nudged it open with her shoulder before grabbing her portion of Giles again.

Spike stopped at the threshold.

"Come on, you undead hesitate-y guy.  Help me!" 

Spike narrowed his eyes and nodded sharply.  They edged through the doorway and lowered Giles to the couch.  

"He didn't disinvite me," Spike said.

Buffy slid a pillow under Giles's head.  "Yeah, well, we didn't think it was necessary since you can't kill us."

"I'm touched, Slayer."

"Don't be.  Just laziness on our part."  Buffy put her hands on her hips and looked around.  "Where would I be if I were a first aid kit?  Bathroom?"  She looked to Spike. 

Spike was shocked that she seemed to be asking him. "That'd be my guess."

"Right," Buffy said, moving in that direction.

Spike watched her go until he felt Giles's hand on the back of his own.  

"Whiskey," Giles said.  "Get my whiskey."

"Straight from the bottle or are you wanting to be all civilized?" Spike asked.

Giles grimaced.  "Do save the humor and just get the bottle, will you?"

"Will do," Spike said.  He went into the little kitchen and opened the cabinet over the stove.  There was the whiskey bottle, right where he'd left it while he'd lived—been held captive—here.  He pulled it down and took it to Giles.

"Here," Spike said.  He propped Giles up higher and held the bottle to his lips.  Spike was careful not to pour more into the Watcher's mouth than he could swallow.  Giles held a hand up to indicated he was finished.

"Thank you," Giles said.

Spike stole a swig of the whiskey for himself.  "No problem, mate."

Buffy returned from the bathroom with the first aid kit in hand.  "Success!" she said.

When she came at Giles armed with gauze, tape and scissors, Giles quickly said, "I believe I just had the wind knocked out of me, Buffy.  No need for all of that.  I'm feeling much better now.  Nothing a good night's sleep won't cure."

"Are you sure, Giles?" Buffy asked, waving the gauze.  ""Cause I got my Girl Scout badge in first aid.  Without completely mummifying anyone."

Giles smiled.  "Quite sure.  But I appreciate your effort."

"You sleeping down here, Watcher?  'Cause me and the Slayer could drag you up to your comfy bed…"

"No, that won't be necessary.  The couch is fine," Giles said.

"Want me to get your jammies?" Buffy asked.

"Actually, I'd rather have a few of the Darvocet in my medicine cabinet, if you don't mind."

"Pain pills?" Buffy asked, worried.

"They'll help him sleep, Buffy.  Nothing to get your knickers all twisted about," Spike said.

Buffy glared at him.  "Don't you talk about my knickers."

"Buffy?" Giles said.  "The pills?"

"I'll bloody well talk about anything I like, Slayer," Spike said, stepping closer to her.

"No you 'bloody well' won't!" Buffy said, poking him in the chest.

"Who's gonna stop me?" Spike practically whispered.

Buffy stared at him, momentarily frozen.  Were his eyes always that blue?  And his bottom lip that full?  Oh and the way he smelled, all earth and leather and smoke…

"Buffy?" Giles said again.

"Huh?  Oh!  The pills.  Yes, I'll just go get your pills."  Buffy backed away from Spike.  He must have felt it too.  He had a hungry look on his face, and Buffy was pretty sure it wasn't for blood.  Well, not *just* for blood.

Spike mentally shook himself as Buffy left the room.  What the hell was that all about?  The way she'd looked at him, all soft and sexy.  He'd felt his body jump in response.  It was almost like that spell…

"Where's Willow?" Spike suddenly asked Giles.

"Willow?"

"Yeah.  Where is she?  Is she off practicing spells?"

"Not that I know of," Giles said.  "I think she and Tara are vacationing at the ocean this week."

"Huh," Spike said.  His eyes flew to Buffy's as she came back into the room, pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other.  

"Oh, thank you," Giles said.  He handed the empty glass back to Buffy.  She reluctantly looked away from Spike to take it from him and set it on the end table.

"Now if you'll just hand me that afghan over there, I shall try to sleep."

Spike absently handed the blanket over.  Giles spread it across himself and looked up at the two still standing there.

"Well, good night," he said.

"Right," Spike said.  He moved toward the door.

"Sleep well, Giles," Buffy said.  She lightly kissed his forehead and turned off the lamp.  "We'll lock the door behind us."

Giles made a sleepy noise as Buffy and Spike left the apartment.

Once outside, they looked at each other.

"So."

"Yeah."

"Um, want to patrol with me?"

"Where's G. I. Riley?"

Buffy's eyes widened a little.  "Uh.  He went home to Iowa for a couple weeks."

"And he didn't take you with him?" Spike asked.  He reached into his pocket for a cigarette, but changed his mind.

"I didn't think I should be away from the Hellmouth for that long.  Demons and all."

"You've left before, haven't you?"

"Um, yeah.  One summer.  I went to L.A. to stay with my dad.  Not an option anymore."

"Is that right?"

"Yeah."  Buffy shifted her feet.  "So, patrol?"

"Why not?" Spike said.  "But let's not make this a habit."

"No, no habit making here.  We're just two strong—beings—out to rid Sunnydale of the beasties."

"Right."  Spike changed his mind again and lit up.  He blew smoke high into the night sky.  "Ruin my reputation if it got out I was patrolling with the Slayer."

"Oh please."  Buffy rolled her eyes.  "You're reputation is so already ruined."

"Is not!"

"Is so."

"Not!"

Buffy punched him lightly on the shoulder.  "Shut up, Spike."

He caught her fist before she pulled it back.  "What happened in there, Slayer?"

"Uh, what do you mean?" Buffy said, playing dumb.

He raised an eyebrow. "You know what I mean.  You felt it too, didn't you?"

Buffy looked at his hand still covering hers.  "Maybe."

"Maybe nothing.  I felt your body temperature rise.  Saw your cheeks get nice and rosy.  Smelled you."  He dropped his cigarette and ground it out with his boot, but didn't let go of her hand.

"What?  And what?!"

"Don't be coy, Buffy.  Doesn't suit you."  Spike rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.  "Felt a little like last year when we were 'engaged'.  God, I wanted you."

Buffy pulled her hand away quickly and smoothed her hair.  "It was all a spell, Spike.  None of that was real."

"Felt damn real."

Buffy crossed her arms.  "For you maybe."

"Oh be honest with yourself for once in your bloody life!"

"Okay, yes.  You're right.  *While we were under the spell*, it felt real."

Spike stepped closer.  "Don't you ever wonder?  If maybe those feelings are still there under it all?"

"No!  No.  No wondering.  No feelings."

Spike touched her bottom lip with his thumb.  "Look at that lip.  Gonna get it."  He lowered his mouth, almost touching hers before Buffy pulled away abruptly.

"What the hell are you doing, Spike?"

"What we both want, I think," he said.  He kissed her.  Soft lips.  His tongue teasing hers.  Their mouths fitting.  It felt so familiar and kind of right.

Buffy broke the kiss almost immediately.  She held her hands up to keep him away.  "Satisfied?" she asked.

"Not even close," he said with a smirk.  "But I guess it'll have to do—for now."

"For EVER, you mean."

"Whatever you say, Slayer."

Buffy turned away.  When she looked back at him, her "all business" look was firmly in place.  "Are we patrolling or not?" she asked a little harshly.

"Lead on.  Let's find some nasties to pummel."

"Good."

"Yeah, good for working off some of that sexual tension."

Buffy punched his shoulder again, this time not so softly.  

"I know," he said.  "'Shut up, Spike'."

She walked off.  He followed her, shaking his head and laughing.

**END**


End file.
